


Yesterday Does Not Define You

by mon-amour-eternel (dottie_wan_kenobi)



Category: The Originals (TV), The Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Character, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Male Character, Children, Dysfunctional Family, F/M, Family, Flashbacks, Gen, Grandparents & Grandchildren, Half-Siblings, Long Lost/Secret Relatives, Mental Health Issues, Past Child Abuse, Past Relationship(s), Sibling Bonding, Siblings, Social Media
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-22
Updated: 2018-02-12
Packaged: 2018-10-21 02:47:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10676109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dottie_wan_kenobi/pseuds/mon-amour-eternel
Summary: Rewrite of "this dysfunction (yesterday does not define you)"When Mikael dies in prison, the only person they can find to contact is his father, Leif Trulsson. His children are out in the wind, untraceable, after they were put into the system following the death of their mother. Leif takes it upon himself to find his grandchildren and reunite them after seventeen years apart.Excerpt:"Niklaus had four broken ribs, a concussion, major internal bleeding, a broken collarbone, and a fractured radius. And probably a broken heart, I'd wager. This all happened only six days before his ninth birthday."





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The appropriate persons are told about Mikael's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the rewrite of this dysfunction (yesterday does not define you). Title comes from Family Tree by Matthew West, just like last time. This time, however, I've decided to name the chapters song lyrics. This story is about the Mikaelson siblings coming together 16 years after Esther was killed by Mikael. He killed her and Ansel on May 10th, 1996. At the time, Freya was 17, Finn was 14, Elijah was 11, Klaus was 8, Kol was 5, Rebekah was 3, and Henrik was 1.
> 
> Just as a refresher (or if you're new, a lesson...I guess?), this work goes by POV's. There are nine, 0-8.
> 
> 0 is Leif/Aerona/Torunn, 1 is Freya, 2 is Finn, 3 is Elijah, 4 is Klaus, 5 is Kol, 6 is Rebekah, 7 is Henrik, and 8 is flashback/other POV.
> 
> WARNINGS: Mikael is gross, Americans are weird, mention of murder and battery.

**March 12th, 2013**

**0.1 -- Tromsø, Norway**

Leif Trulsson is just falling asleep when the home phone rings, jolting him awake. The old thing is hung up on the wall next to his chair -- he suspects it’s a ploy by his wife, Aerona, to make him answer so she doesn’t have to.

Over the years they’ve been together, she’s changed from forbidding him from answering the phone to making sure she never has to. He’s always left awkwardly making small talk with his wife’s sisters, who never seem to want to stop gossiping.

When he checks the phone, though, it isn’t one of his sisters-in-law. It’s an American phone number, one he doesn’t recognize.

“Leifson household, Leif speaking. May I ask who’s calling?” Aerona peers at him from over her juvenile romance book, approvingly.

The voice on the other end, male and definitely American, doesn’t bother to return his pleasantries. “You’re Leif Trulsson?”

Confused and a little put off by the lack of manners, Leif answers, “yes, I am. Who’s this?”

“My name is James Collins. I work at a prison in Virginia, USA for major crimes.” Leif’s blood turns to ice. He doesn’t have much family in the states, but one of the branches is in Virginia. So the call can only mean that one of his grandchildren has gotten themselves into a mess, a very big mess.  “Unfortunately, I have some news regarding your son, Mikael Leifson. Just to be sure, your son’s full name is Mikael Sebastian Leifson, correct?”

If Leif had had a drink, it would’ve been spit out. The twist of going from one of his grandchildren to the son he’d lost so long ago makes his head and heart hurt.

“Yes, yes that’s correct. Mikael Sebastian Leifson, born August 4th, 1960.”

Aerona’s head snaps up at the name of their son, eyes immediately watering. He’s been missing so long, any news is rare. And it’s been so long since they said his name….

“Okay, so I have the right guy. When was the last time you and your son spoke?”

Leif has to think about it before he can answer. “Almost thirty-five years ago. It was 1977, I believe."

James blows out a breath. “Okay. Wow. Um, well, I have some news to share. He was in prison from August of 1996 to just a few days ago for -- “

“Has he escaped?” He tries to clamp down on the hope his question stirs. Aerona shifts closer, not quite sitting on the arm of his chair. He moves so she can press her ear up against the receiver.

James clears his throat uncomfortably. “No. I’m sorry to say, Mikael passed away on the 10th of March. He had a heart attack.”

Aerona gasps, tears leaking from her eyes. He wraps an arm around her, pulls her onto his lap. They’re old, but comfort is eternal.

Strangled, he says, “you were about to say why he was in prison.”

Papers shuffle on the other side, stalling the response. Finally, the man hesitantly says, “two counts of second degree murder and three counts of battery with a deadly weapon. All committed on May 10th, 1996. … I’m very sorry you had to find out this way,” he murmurs.

Leif is barely thinking about the man, though. He’s thinking about the fact that his son, who was bossy and mean, had killed two people and seriously hurt three more. The picture of his baby boy, grudgingly taking care of his younger siblings, did not compute with the image of him standing over a dead body.

Not exactly firing on all cylinders, he asks, “why?”

“Why did he -- ? He killed his wife and her ex-lover, and severely beat three of his children. I don’t know why, what possessed him to -- I’m sorry,” he almost squeaks, “I’m not very good about keeping my mouth shut. I’m really sorry.”

Leif sighs, shocked and dismayed and sad. He thinks he’s in shock; he feels, mostly, numb. A sob falls from Aerona’s lips, at the thought of grandchildren they don’t know getting hurt by their own father.

“Tell me what happened between him going missing and...and two days ago. Please.”

James smacks his lips nervously. “As far as I know, he came to Richmond, Virginia from London in September 1977, along with his wife Esther. They got temporary visas until they could be naturalized. They moved to Mystic Falls, Virginia in January 1978, along with their daughter Freya. In Mystic Falls, they had six more children -- Finn, Elijah, Niklaus, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik. There were some police calls for noise and similar disturbances. There were also some issues with custody of Niklaus, as it was revealed that he wasn’t Mikael’s son. Then, in 1996, the police were called to the home, and Mikael was arrested for, like I said, murder and battery. He was convicted immediately, and sent to prison. He just rotted there for almost seventeen years. When he died, we checked his will, and everything he owned except for one thing went to you.”

“What was the one thing?” He asks. He doesn’t know what else he could possibly say.

“Oh...a letter. It hasn’t been opened, but it’s addressed to the children.”

“Where are they? What happened to them?”

“They were taken to the hospital afterwards. Freya had three cracked ribs and one broken one, minor internal bleeding, and minor bruises. Elijah had two stab wounds, a concussion, and major internal bleeding. Niklaus had four broken ribs, a concussion, major internal bleeding, a broken collarbone, and a fractured radius. And probably a broken heart, I’d wager. This all happened only six days before his ninth birthday.”

“ _Herregud_.”

“After a few days, they were separated into different foster homes, before the younger three were adopted. The older four aged out of the system. Well, actually, Niklaus ran away and has been missing since 2005. The other three did age out.”

“ _Herregud_ ,” Leif repeats, no other response appropriate for the situation. “Have any attempts been made to find them? To tell them their father is dead?”

Aerona looks away, biting her lip. He doesn’t look away from her as he listens to James talk.

“Frankly, I don’t think any of them will care. Accounts from them all indicate he was verbally and physically abusive for years. They’ll probably be glad he’s gone.” James bites his tongue, forcing himself to be quiet once again.

“Is there any way they can be found?”

“No. They’re scattered all over. The records were botched almost immediately after the sentencing, so no one knows where these kids went. I’m really sorry. All we know is that they’re adults now. Look, I’ll call you if I get any more information. Okay?”

Leif barely gets out, “okay,” before James is hanging up the phone.

As soon as his hand falls to his side, still clutching the phone, Aerona is turning his head to look at her.

“We have to do something,” she says, determined. When she gets like this, he knows, there is no arguing with her. None at all.

“We’re in Tromsø, Aerona, we can’t _do_ anything,” he protests weakly.

Her eyes turn fiery. “Yes we can, Leif Trulsson. We can and we will. We’re going to the United States to find our grandchildren.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Herregud - "oh my god" (according to google translate)
> 
> The next chapter should be out in a few days.
> 
> If you liked this, leave a review! Thank you!


	2. That That Don't Kill Me Can Only Make Me Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya and Finn see an interesting commercial.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from Stronger by Kanye West
> 
> I promised myself I wouldn't post this until tomorrow, but...I got several awesome reviews both here and on ffn, so I'm going to post it today! The next chapter will be out in a few days (seriously this time).
> 
> WARNINGS: smoking, anxiety, mentions of what Mikael did.

**March 22nd, 2013**

**1.1 -- Atlanta, Georgia**

Freya loves kids. She only has three of her own, but three is quite enough for her.

She also has a love-hate relationship with smoking tobacco. After a rough tenure in the foster system, she’s got habits she can’t break. Smoking is one of them, even though her two of her children have asthma.

Her job at a daycare, which helps support her and her family, has her do what she does at home -- go outside to smoke.

So, on that chilly day, she goes outside and tries to relax a little.

As much as she loves kids, they’re stressful as hell. If it isn’t Radley trying to get a girlfriend, or Théo and Lucy tricking Lucien, then it’s the kids she watches at the daycare.

She takes a drag, thoughts drifting to her oldest son.

Radley hates that she smokes. He complains about it every chance he gets. _It’s not good for Théo and Lucy_ , he says often. _It’s not good for_ you _. You need to quit, Mom, full-turkey. Please._

It’s not like Freya hasn’t tried to quit, it’s that she needs _something_ to help her anxiety, and nothing else has worked like cigarettes do.

With a sigh, she checks her phone. Sure enough, her break is over.

She puts the butt out and puts it in the ziploc baggy she keeps in her purse specifically for butts. She has to use all her effort to open the heavy door, glad to step inside the warmth it offers.

Freya’s just putting her purse away in her cubby -- high up and away from prying hands -- when she hears the TV, usually showing Spout or Disney, going into a commercial.

Or rather, she hears part of the commercial. Names. She turns to see, expecting something far different than what she gets. It’s an older couple, white, dressed comfortably. It’s the woman speaking, and her voice has an accent lilting it, one Freya can’t quite place. It’s so familiar, though, just like the names. Well, the names are much more familiar than the voice.

_Freya Mikaelson, Finn Mikaelson, Elijah Mikaelson, Niklaus Mikaelson, Kol Mikaelson, Rebekah Mikaelson, Henrik Mikaelson…_

“...they need to be reunited. Please help us find our grandchildren. Tips can be sent to 1-800-441-7192. Thank you and God bless you.”

Her heart skips a beat. She hasn’t heard those names since she was 17. She hasn’t been Freya Mikaelson since 2000. She hasn’t even thought of her siblings in years. And now, their names are being talked about on TV.

One of her coworkers calls her name, so she puts everything away and goes to help.

But don’t for a second think she’s going to let the commercial go.

* * *

**1.2**

When Freya gets home, it’s to find Radley chilling out on the couch and the younger kids out with Lucien.

She hangs up her coat and sets her purse on the side table. Radley glances her way before turning back to his phone, where he’s texting someone. Probably Aamira or Taavi.

“Hey, Radley? Can you do me a favor?”

He sighs and sits up. His blonde hair falls into his face; it’s high time he gets a haircut. “Sure.”

She ruffles his hair, knowing that, at 15, he hates her babying him. He rolls his eyes, acting just like Finn used to.

Huh. One mention of her lost siblings and memories of them are coming up to the surface.

She shakes her head to get rid of the thoughts. “Can you look up something for me? I would do it myself, but my phone died.”

He nods and, once he’s all set up, he looks to her so she’ll talk.

“Mikaelson. M-I-K-A-E-L-S-O-N. Thanks.”

Radley frowns a little, confused about why she wants him to look up her maiden name. Ever since his name was changed to Castle, there haven’t been any Mikaelson’s in the family. “‘Course, mom. Um, let’s see, is it this?”

He turns his phone around, and the screen shows a website with a bold title of _Find The Mikaelsons_. She nods.

He pulls the phone back, and reads, “this page was made for Leif and Aerona Trulsson, who were recently informed their son, Mikael, was dead.” Her heart stops for a beat, again. The name Mikael is not one she likes or even tolerates. “They also found out that he’d gotten married and had children while he was away, a wife and children they knew nothing about. The children were put into the foster system and got separated. Haven’t talked since 1996.” _Oh my god_ , she thinks. _Mikael and 1996? Can it be a coincidence? Please let it be a coincidence._ “Leif and Aerona came all the way to NYC from Tromsø just to find the grandkids…. There’s a picture, lemme pull it up….” He gasps, and she shoots forward, wanting to know what’s so shocking.

“Mom, that’s you,” he says, shoving the phone at her. She grabs it just before it can fall, and sees herself, sure enough. Seventeen-year-old Freya Mikaelson, who had scars only from acne. Who was sitting on a couch next to Finn, who held Henrik. Next to Finn was Elijah, Niklaus over her shoulder, and Kol and Rebekah at their feet. None of them are smiling -- she remembers this photo, remembers that her father had just said he would cut Niklaus out of the picture if they messed anything up.

Her eyes slide downward, to the caption. It reads: “ _This is the only picture in the Mikaelsons’ belongings that does not have Niklaus’ face scratched out. It is also the only photo of all seven children together. Go through this slideshow to see a summary of each Mikaelson, with picture identification, as well._ ”

She swipes, and the picture changes so there’s a thick red circle around her head. _Freya Riley Mikaelson,_ the caption reads. _The oldest of the siblings, she was born around 1979 in Mystic Falls, Virginia. In 1996, when Esther (their mother) died and Mikael (their father) went to jail, she was 17 years old. She aged out of the foster system without getting adopted or placed in a permanent foster home. Her last known location, in 1999, was in Georgia, USA. If you have any information on her, please come forward._

It’s surreal. It’s like she’s a missing person, one who's just gone. But she isn’t, and she hasn’t been. She’s just been in Atlanta, Georgia, since 1996.

“Mom? Why is your picture on that website? Who are those other kids?”

She looks at him, finding that his confused frown has fallen into a full blown one. The look reminds her sharply of two men she hates -- Mikael and Radley’s father. Both were frowners whose lips turned so far down it was almost comical. Radley doesn’t know that, though -- he knows nothing about her life before him except that she was orphaned at 17 and got pregnant not long after.

She gives his phone back as she says, “those are my siblings. Apparently my grandparents are looking for us.” She shrugs, but saying the word grandparents out loud makes things even weirder. Neither her nor Lucien have living parents, and growing up, Freya didn’t have grandparents. Just an Aunt Dahlia who freaked her out and never visited except the once.

His mouth falls open in shock. “You have siblings? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?”

In the face of all his questions, she feels terrible. Partially because he deserves to know these things about her, and partially because she’s keeping other things from him that are even more important than her siblings.

She rounds the couch to sit next to him, to make them more equal. “Radley, I haven’t told you this before because it’s hard to talk about. But I’ll tell you now. I have six younger siblings, born from 1981 to 1994. In 1996, my father killed my mother, a family acquaintance, and…” she can’t choke out the words, _tried to kill me and two of my brothers_. She _can’t_. So she says, “...and we were separated. I haven’t heard from or seen my siblings since then.”

“Oh my god, mom,” he says softly, just before launching into a hug. “God, I’m so sorry. That’s so unfair to you guys.”

She hugs back, feeling love for him practically welling out of her.

“Will you tell me about them?” He pauses before asking, “do you think I have any cousins?”

She laughs, almost positive he doesn’t. She’d never wanted to be a mother, and none of her siblings (except Henrik, who could say only two words when she last saw him) wanted kids, either.

Freya’s pretty sure that isn’t the best story to start off with, though. Maybe….  
  
“Well, in order, it was me, Finn, Elijah, Niklaus, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik. And I’ll let you in on a family secret. Niklaus was another man’s son.”

* * *

**2.1 -- St. Louis, Missouri**

Spongebob’s giggle is replaced by a man talking about genital herpes, and Finn has never been more grateful.

He’s already got a headache -- hearing three of his six children fight over _Dora_ , _Avatar: The Last Airbender_ , and _iCarly_ , only to agree on Spongebob has not helped at all. The baby is crying somewhere, too, not responding to Sage’s cooing hushes, and god knows where the eldest is. Christine, the second to last, is sitting in his lap, watching as he types in more information.

“Who are you looking for, Daddy?” She pokes him on the cheek, and giggles madly. He smiles at her sweetly; her laugh is infectious and so endearing.

Lacey, from the living room, screeches, “shut up, Christine!”

Christine’s eyes water, and she starts sobbing. Her whole body twists to curl into his, narrowly missing stepping on his groin.

Finn sighs, helping her situate herself on his hip. He hushes her as he walks to the living room, only quieting her cries the tiniest bit. The eldest, Philip, is passed out on the couch. How, Finn has no idea. Sage swears the boy could sleep through a tornado.

Lacey is sitting three inches from the TV. Grant and Zach have followed her lead and are even closer.

Finn’s headache is going full force. It’s times like these he remembers saying he would never have children.

He sets Christine on the couch, and turns to the kids on the floor. “Why are you sitting so close to the TV?” Lacey smirks like she’s gotten out of trouble, so he adds, “Lacey, you’re definitely not off the hook.”

She huffs and pouts, so Grant says for her, “well, Phil is on the couch, so we had to sit on the floor, and Lacey thought we should sit close so we can see better.” Zach nods his head so hard, he gets visibly dizzy. Lacey taught him how to headbang (he has absolutely no idea where she learned it herself) and he does it all the time now. Leave it to Lacey to be a bad influence.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You can’t sit that close to the TV. You could do bad, bad things to your eyes, alright, kids? Boys, come sit over here by the couch. Lacey….” She crosses her arms and rolls her eyes as the boys do as they’re told. They’re barely out of the terrible two’s and three’s that all Mikaelsons have, and yet they’re much more obedient than their older sister.

She’s seven. She already acts just like Freya did when she was that age.

“Lacey, you are not allowed to say shut up. Also, please, do not influence your siblings to do things you know you aren’t allowed to do. Now, apologize to your sister.”

Lacey huffs, but says, “sorry.” She says it like he’s forced her with threat of death. _She said it, though_ , he thinks, _and that’s a win in my book_.

He moves to pick Christine up again, and take her back to the kitchen where he was trying to research Sage’s family tree. Christine likes to help, so he’ll let her sit on his lap while he goes through the hints and such. Whenever he finds pictures, she loves making up stories of the people in them.

However, he’s stopped when he hears what must be the final commercial -- and commercials have always been a bad thing, until he had to listen to Squidward contemplate suicide all day that is.

An older woman’s voice says, “I’m looking for my grandchildren. I’ve never met them, and I’m hoping to find them. They were separated in 1996 - they haven't seen each other in almost 17 years. Recently, my son, their father, died, and none of them can be found to be told the bad news. They need to be reunited. Please help us find our grandchildren. Tips can be sent to 1-800-441-7192. Thank you and God bless you." She says the number, and Finn whips out his phone to dial it. He presses down way too hard on the buttons, but he barely notices.

Sage comes downstairs to hear the tail end of the commercial, and see the picture of Finn and his siblings on the screen that he’d thought lost. He isn’t thinking about the picture, though, nor how all of his kids except Adam, who’s sleeping in Sage’s arms, and Phil, who’s still asleep on the couch, were suddenly looking a little frightened at his frantic movements.

No, it’s none of that. As soon as he heard Freya’s name, his thoughts had gone to two places -- one, now he can potentially expand his side of the family tree, and two, he’s really sick of waiting to see his siblings again.

The phone rings once, twice, before -- “Hello?” It’s a woman’s voice, not the same one as before, though. It’s accented the same, Scandinavian if he had to guess. Finn doesn’t care though; man, woman, adult, child, he might be about to reunite with his family. Whoever is on the line doesn’t matter.

Breathlessly, he answers, “hi. I’m calling about the commercial? For the Mikaelsons?”

The woman on the other side of the line gives a shocked sounding laugh. “Wow. Alright, I’ll go get my father. He’ll be very happy to hear someone has answered his calls.”

The line goes quiet, so Finn takes a moment to reassure his family. ‘It’s fine,’ he mouths, and moves to the kitchen. He sits heavily in his chair, pulls up himself on his family tree, and waits. He has every move, every date put into his profile. His siblings’ are empty; he hates that he doesn’t know those things about them any more.

After another moment, an old man’s voice sounds, “my daughter says you’re calling because of the commercial?”

“Yes, I am. I -- “

“Oh, I forgot to say, my name is Leif Trulsson. What’s your name?” The old guy sounds friendly, and any worries Finn might have had about this wash away.  
  
Finn grins, so excited he could go outside and bounce on the trampoline for hours. “It’s Finn. Finn Mikaelson.”

* * *

**0.2 -- New York City, New York**

Leif drops the phone. Torunn, his youngest, scrambles to pick it up. Her hovering has one good thing about it -- he doesn’t have to bend over to get it. That's not the only reason he's glad she came along with them, of course, but it's a bonus on his old bones for sure.

She hands him her cellphone for the second time, and he chokes out, “Finn Mikaelson?”

Torunn’s eyes go wide, and she claps a hand over her mouth. Aerona, sitting on one of the hotel beds, stands quickly and makes her way to them. Both girls look anxious to know what’s going on.

The man on the other line -- with an unassuming southern-American/diluted-British accent, and a noticeable hitch in his breath -- responds, “yeah. I just saw your commercial. You said you were my grandfather?”

“I--I, yes, I am.” A thought occurs to him, and he says, “I don’t mean to be rude, son, but is there any way you could send proof?”

Thankfully, Finn seems to understand. He pauses, silence reigning over the phone for only a moment. “I could text you a picture, or something?”

“Hold on,” he says. To Torunn, he asks, “can your phone get pictures?” She nods, so he tells Finn, “that sounds fine. But how will I know it’s you?” He’s heard about people using other people’s pictures before. He won’t be goldfished or whatever it’s called.

“I’ll uh...I’ll write down my birthday, and your name. Is that okay?” Finn’s voice sounds hesitant, hopeful. Leif’s smile gets so big, he’s afraid his dentures will fall out.

“Yes,” Leif says, feeling overjoyed. Ever since the first call, he’s heard more about what Mikael did to his children. Several police calls, a restraining order from a woman who said she was scared he would harm her, the horrible injuries he caused…all covered up by his job as a politician. Leif has been worried that Mikael permanently damaged his children; he’s been worried they would be mean, uninterested, or something worse. But Finn sounds so nice and happy that his worries are soothed.

“Alright, well, I’m going to hang up to take the picture, but I’ll call right back. Okay?”

Leif nods before he realizes Finn can’t see him and says, “okay.”

The line goes dead. He pulls the phone away from his head, hands shaking.

As one, Torunn and Aerona demand, “well?”

“He’s sending proof. Will one of you get the picture, please, so we can compare it?” It’s the only one they have, the only picture in Mikael’s belongings. His grandchildren look regal in it, like they’re royalty. Even the baby looks demure and in charge at the same time.

Torunn fetches the framed picture quickly, just in time for Finn to send his own picture.

The man in the picture is holding up a paper under his chin, that says, _Leif Trulsson, my birthday is October 28th, 1981!_

He holds the frame in his hands, and Torunn holds the phone next to the picture.

He is, unmistakably, Finn Mikaelson. He looks older, of course, and he’s thinned out some, but it’s him. He’s got dark hair and dark eyes, a strong jaw that comes from Leif’s father, and a smile that is 100% Aerona.

Finn is calling within seconds of their revelation, and Torunn answers the phone, as it’s still in her hand. She squeals into the device, “you’re Finn Mikaelson!”

He says something, and Torunn laughs.  
  
Aerona and Leif share an excited look -- this is just the beginning, and they both know it.

* * *

**1.3**

When Lucien gets home, Théo and Lucy chattering in French with him, Freya and Radley are still talking about her siblings. She’s told just about every story, but when he asks a question, another one comes to mind.

Radley spots his step-father, and exclaims, “Dad! Me and Mom have been talking about her siblings -- you have to hear some of these stories! They're hilarious.”

Lucy says, “I wanna hear them!”

Théo says, louder, “me too!”

Lucien chuckles, crouching down so he’s at their height. While Radley is a mama’s-boy who looks a lot like her, the kids are definitely more attached to their daddy. And with their dark hair and dark eyes, they look more like him, too.

“Your mother will tell you one for a bed story, how about that? For now, go get washed up.”

“Grass belongs on the ground, not in you hair,” Freya adds, much to Radley and Lucien’s amusement. Théo whines but follows Lucy upstairs.

Freya, in the meantime, pulls Lucien into a welcome home kiss. Radley allows it for approximately one second before making a grossed out noise. “Come on, guys, right in front of me? Seriously?”

“Someday,” Lucien sings, laughing at the same time, “you’ll be the one kissing your wife, embarrassing your child.”

“I honestly don’t think Aamira will be that embarrassed,” Freya adds, causing a bright red blush to fill her son’s cheeks.

“I’m not getting married to Aamira! I don’t like her like that!” He shoots back, overtly defensive.

Lucien and Freya share a smile. “Of course not,” Lucien soothes, “you only have her as your background because you’re good friends.”

“Yeah, and you only talk to her every single day because you want to talk to someone, not because you want to make sure she’s doing okay.”

As one, Freya and her husband nod. “Right.” Their sarcasm, in this case, is a particular brand Freya and her siblings have been known for since the beginning, plus a dash of Lucien’s own sass. Radley hates it.

Radley groans like he’s suffering torture, throwing his head back to look upward. “Patience, Radley, patience,” he faux-whispers.

Freya and Lucien laugh loudly, thoroughly enjoying getting on their son’s nerves.

“I’m gonna go help the kids,” he mutters, swiftly going upstairs.

Lucien flops down next to her, taking the free spot. “What was he talking about earlier?”

“Oh, my siblings. I saw a commercial today about a guy looking for seven Mikaelsons, one of whom is named Freya. We looked it up and they’re actually looking for me,” she says, trying for casual. He sees right through her, like he always has, and he pulls her close. She settles in his lap, legs hanging over his. They wrap their arms around each other, taking advantage of the moment together.

“Are you going to get into contact with them?” He makes his voice soft, comforting. Sometimes, she’s a lot crazier than him. This is the voice he uses when she’s having an anxiety attack.

Somehow, it always coaxes answers out of her.

“I don’t think so.”

“Why not, darling?”

She closes her eyes, determined not to look at him. Expressing feelings is hard for her period, let alone looking him right in the eye. “I’m scared that they’ll be like my father. I’m scared they’ll find us all and hate Niklaus, or not find us all, because not all of us are still around….” She takes a deep breath, trying to calm down. “There are just so many things that can go wrong. I don’t want to get hurt just so I can see my siblings again.”

He rubs her back, thinking about what he wants to say. They’re silent for a while.

Sounds of feet upstairs makes him speak. “Freya, _mon petit chou_ , I understand your fears. But I honestly believe that seeing the people you grew up with will be worth any hurting that may or may not happen. I really think you should contact them, and I’ll be at your side through everything. I promise.”

With tears in her eyes, she hugs him tightly and only pulls back to kiss him passionately. “I love you,” she whispers.  
  
“ _Je t’aime, aussi_ ,” he croons, and it’s really no surprise to her that she loves him more and more everyday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mon petit chou - love, darling, honey, sweetheart. Literally "my little cabbage" but it's translated as a term of endearment.  
> Je t'aime aussi - "I love you too". Literally "I love you also" but whatever.


	3. I'm Alive I'm Alive Well You're Dead Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah, Freya, and Klaus deal with the Manhunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from I'm Alive by Shinedown.
> 
> I think I'm going to be updating on Saturdays, just to give me some time to write in between updates.
> 
> WARNINGS: mention/talk of dead siblings, anxiety, mentioned homophobia, the word 'suicidal', mention of abuse/starvation/etc., a stalker.

**March 30th, 2013**

**8.1**

**Excerpt from: The Case Behind The Mikaelson Manhunt**

_On March 15th, a commercial launched for the first time, marking the beginning of a international phenomenon._

_The commercial was homemade, just an older Norwegian couple standing in front of a white wall, asking for the world to help them find their estranged grandchildren. They asked for help in reuniting their grandchildren, who were torn apart in 1996 (seventeen years ago this May) by their father. The couple made this plea with high hopes._

_Well, as of March 30th, they've had one of their hopes fulfilled._

_Finn Mikaelson has been found._

_Communication with him has been through Skype calls only. This hasn't done anything to quell the excitement we're feeling. Seeing grandparents and grandchild bond as they have is a sweet and interesting experience._

_America is holding its breath, waiting for another Mikaelson to come forward._

**3.1 -- Stanford, California**

Elijah understands these things more than most people realize.

See, Elijah Mikaelson is the emotionless guy who used to be lawyer. His bleeding heart told him to become a social worker, and now he’s in college, studying social work. People think, when they see he and Katherine, that he’s the one who is blank.

There are many things wrong with that assessment.

Elijah isn’t emotionless, and neither he nor Katerina are blank. Especially on this day, his wife is far from cold hearted.

This is the day she lost her sister Tatia. It’s been seven years, and she’s still devastated.

Elijah understands the grief of losing a sibling. He lost six, all in one day. Grief is not something he’s evaded in his short twenty-seven years of life.

So, he presses a kiss to her head and leaves her in their bed to take care of their son. “Just rest, my love.” She nods, hiding her beautiful face from him. He sighs and rubs her back.

“Don’t forget to call Elena and Jeremy,” are his parting words. She moans and burrows into the blankets.

He’s still thinking about her when he enters Matthew’s room. His son is too young to be able to make a card. But maybe he can “help” Elijah with breakfast. Wrangling a one-year-old into helping make pancakes for his mother will be difficult, but he’s willing to withstand it. Not only will it make Katerina happy, but he’ll get to bond with Matthew.

Father and son rarely have time together, with Elijah busy with school and Matthew busy with visiting his aunt and uncle. It’s going to be nice, spending a day with his son.

Speaking of, as soon as he enters the room, Matthew stands up in his crib and “eee”’s at Elijah.

“Hello,” he murmurs affectionately, pulling Matthew up and onto his hip. “Are you hungry, Matthew?”

“YES!” Matthew squeals. Yes, mama, and dada are the only words Matthew can say. Still, his enthusiasm is precious.

Elijah boops his nose, making the little boy giggle. “Let’s go get some food, then. We’re going to make pancakes. If you’re anything like me, your uncles, or your grandfather, you won’t be much of a cook, but pancakes? Any Mikaelson can make pancakes. Your mother loves pancakes. Did you know that, Matthew? Huh? Did you know?”

Matthew says, “yes!”, but he doesn’t actually know what Elijah’s saying. He’s just responding to Elijah’s use of the Baby Voice.

Elijah smiles anyway, asking, “you did? Who told you?” as he moves downstairs.

An hour later, Matthew has covered Elijah from head to toe with flour and Katerina is visibly fighting off a smile. On March 30th, of all days.

“Elijah! An hour with you, and this is what happens?” She makes her voice as reprimanding as she can. She clutches the blanket around her shoulders and makes her way further into the kitchen.

If he’s being honest, it looks more like a warzone. But who ever said fun couldn’t be messy? He really feels like he’s had more fun letting Matthew throw flour at him than he has in years.

“Sorry, darling. He just finds it so funny, and I can’t resist his adorable laugh,” he defends, falling into the Baby Voice at the end. Matthew giggles, proving Elijah’s point when Katerina smiles helplessly.

“My sweet boy,” she croons, not coming any closer. “Did you get daddy messy?”

He claps his hands, making flour sprinkle from his tiny hands. “Yes, mama!”

It’s such a sweet sight, Katerina’s mood is lifted.

“You made pancakes?” She asks, obviously spying the plate he has of them. Elijah’s head turns to look at the plate, as does Katerina’s, and Matthew, who swings his head to look too, takes it upon himself to pick one up and try to take a bite out of it.

Elijah lunges forward, taking it from the boy. “No, no, Matthew, we have to cut it up for you. You could choke.”

He lifts his son from the counter and moves him over to the table. He’s got a piece in his mouth still when Elijah sets him down in his seat.

Katerina sits next to him, looking like two peas in a pod with their dark hair and tanned skin. It’s hard to say who’s cuter -- his wife or their son.

She says, “we need pancakes, _now_ ,” and Elijah decides that today, Matthew is the winner of that competition.

Or maybe not. Katerina being demanding is hot. He shakes the thoughts out of his head, focussing on slathering the pancakes with butter and syrup.

He presents the pancakes with a flourish, setting Matthew’s cut up one on the tray of his high chair so she doesn’t have to. They both smile at him, though their boy’s smile is wider.

Elijah sits down to eat, as well, and for a while, he and Katerina talk about Tatia. When Matthew starts fussing, Elijah just gives him his phone, not wanting to interrupt his wife’s grieving.

After she goes back to bed, Elijah cleans up both himself and the kitchen. He’s much better at cleaning than cooking. Unfortunately, Katerina is the same way, so they often eat over at Elena’s, since she can actually make edible food.

Matthew makes a noise, so Elijah turns to him. “What is it, Matthew?”

He’s keysmashing the phone, or at least Elijah thinks so. His brow is pulled low with frustration, and his tongue sticks out adorably.

Elijah can’t help a laugh. Gently, he pulls the phone away, seeing the problem instantly. Matthew’s gotten himself on Safari, instead of the animal noise phone game Elijah pulled up when he handed the boy his phone.

Interestingly, Matthew’s got google pulled up and is searching for…”Mikaelson”.

What?

Elijah’s pretty sure his son just pressed random letters and clicked on a search result, but that begs the question of _why is Mikaelson a hit?_.

The first link is one that says, “First Mikaelson Found In So Called ‘Mikaelson Manhunt’”. He clicks on it, absent-mindedly letting Matthew play with the fingers on his other hand.

It reads, _Finn Mikaelson has been found. After seeing the infamous commercial, Finn called the number at the bottom of the screen and has been in contact with the Trulssons. While he has no plans to go to New York City just yet, he and the Trulssons have reportedly had many Skype calls._

_Already, the world is ready for another Mikaelson to be found._

_Speaking of, i_ _f you have any information on where to find a Mikaelson (or if you are one yourself), call 1-800-441-7192 or send a message at findthemikaelsons.com._

Below the short article is a picture.

Elijah gasps at the sight of a man who is undoubtedly his older brother. He doesn’t look much different from the fourteen year old he knew, but there’s still a difference. All baby fat has left Finn’s cheeks, his hair is shorter, his eyes don’t look so angry. He’s really a sight to behold.

Especially that hair. If there’s one thing Elijah knows about Finn Mikaelson, it’s that his hair is his pride and joy. Having it short is something Elijah never thought he’d see.

“Dada!”

Elijah drops the phone in surprise. Luckily, it falls to the table without cracking.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, then replies, “yes?”

“Yes!” He splays his hands out, showing how there’s no pancake left. Well, almost none left. There’s still one little piece.

Elijah faux-gasps. “Matthew! Good job! You ate so much!”

“Yes!”

Then, he takes the piece and eats it, chewing exaggeratedly. “Dada did too,” he says with his mouth still full.

Even though it’s gross, he’ll do it just to make Matthew clap and laugh his head off.

Elijah decides he’ll have to look into the Mikaelson Manhunt thing later. For now, he has a son to take care of.

* * *

**1.4**

It’s taken a while for Freya to get her nerve up.

Radley and Lucien are supportive, and so are Théo and Lucy, but actually picking up the phone is much more difficult than she anticipated.

One morning a week after she first heard about the search, she and Lucien lay in bed and she thinks about calling them.

“What’s holding you back?” Lucien asks, head tilted in the way it always is when he’s got a suspicion.

She shrugs. “I just can’t stop thinking about what they’re going to be like.”

“You grandparents?” She nods. “Well, let’s look at the facts. They’re saying that they want to reunite you and your siblings. They’ve paused their lives to do so. They seem very happy to have found Finn.”

Oh, Finn. When Freya read in the news that Finn had been found, she’d pounced on the pictures. _Buzzfeed_ in particular had several that Finn had sent in himself. She looked at every single one until she had memorized them. Even now, she knows that his freckles have faded, his eyes have more wrinkles around them, his frowning lines have transformed into ones of laughter. Or at least, she thinks so. Her own lines have turned happy in the years since Mother died.

“Finn seems to like them. Was Finn a good judge of character?” He rubs her arm, letting her think.

“He was only fourteen. He thought everyone was either dangerous or too cool to be dangerous.”

“Do you think your grandparents are dangerous?”

Her eyes narrow. For someone who owns a Fortune-500 company, he acts a lot like a therapist. Probably because he had one after his father was killed.

“No...,” she says slowly, “I don’t. But do I think they could do things that will be dangerous? Yes.”

He lets out a little chuckle, brown eyes sparkling with mirth. “What could they possibly do that would be dangerous?”

“Look, you know my father was a homophobe. Maybe he learned that from them. It wasn’t just me, you know, it was Kol, too. I don’t want to go through that again.”

Her eyes are watering by the end. Father has done terrible things to all of them, but her more than some of the others. If he learned his actions from his parents, which is a possibility she doesn't like the chances of, she won't put herself through that pain just to see her siblings again. She won't.

Lucien softens even more than usual, even more than he already is. “Freya, darling, I know that what you went through was awful. But I honestly don’t think that they are anything like him. He was cruel and evil. You’ve said before that he was never happy to see any of you. But you saw that video, you’ve seen it more than I have. They seem so eager to find you all. I really think that they will accept you no matter what. And if they don’t, then I guess I’ll have to punch your grandfather or something.”

A laugh bursts from her lips; he smiles at her, glad to have made the mood a little lighter.

“I won’t force you to call, but I think you should. I think this leap of faith will work out for the better. And I really think you’ll be overjoyed to see your siblings again, bad grandparents or not.”

Freya’s defense breaks down with that one last blow. Looking him in the eyes, she asks, “can you hand me my phone?”

Lucien leaned back, grabbing her cell off the side table. “Do you want me to give you some privacy?”

He used to say the same thing when they first met, when she had to breastfeed Radley. She’s almost always said the same thing, “no, stay.”

He settles back into the warm middle of the bed, watching as she finds the number and hovers over the call button. It takes another minute, a minute of all her anxieties about this bombarding her, before she forces herself and presses.

It only rings twice.

“Hello?” An accented female voice answers; Freya recognizes it as the one in the commercial. “Is this call about the Mikaelson Manhunt?”

She clears her throat, suddenly afraid she won’t be able to get any words out. If that happens, she’ll have well and truly embarrassed herself. No chance of seeing her siblings again after that.

“Yes,” she finally manages. “Is this the lady in the commercial?”

Anything to stall a little while longer.

There’s a short laugh, not unkind. “Yes, it is. I’m Aerona Trulsson. May I ask who is calling in this tip?”

Freya licks her lips. “Freya Mikaelson.”

There’s a quiet woop from the other line, one that she would never expect from an older woman, and then she’s being asked to submit proof. The same proof that Finn sent in, apparently.

She hangs up, and stares dazedly at the ceiling. There’s no going back from this. She’s going to see her family again. She’s going to have to deal with the stress of them all again. She’s going to have to --  
  
“Well, come on love, let’s find you some paper.”

* * *

**4.1 -- New Orleans, Louisiana**

Every time Klaus’ life went to shit, he came out of it wishing that he would just die. He's never been suicidal, but it's just seemed easier, at times, if he was dead. He wouldn't have to go through everything life throws at him. And it's certainly thrown a lot.

First, eight years of hell on earth. Then, that awful day. After that came the foster homes, the starvation, the beatings, the time he was homeless, the guilt of leaving his beloved. Guilt that he still loves her so much, but can't be with her because he's too damaged. Guilt that he feels that way, guilt that he's making this choice for her.

Simply put, he’s gone through a lot.

And now here he is, with two jobs he hates, a stalker, two kids hanging around that he barely tolerates, and of all things, his _grandparents_ hanging over his head like a threat.

Imagine going through twenty-five years with zero grandparents (or at least, ones he never knew existed) and then, one day, they show up. Not personally, but on TV. On _national TV_.

He’s sure, wherever Kol and Rebekah are, they’re loving this.

“What do think of this?” A customer asks, jerking their head towards the TV. On it, a Saturday Night Live rerun is talking about how the world is being swept away by the Mikaelson Manhunt.

Klaus feels his shoulders tense. What does he think of it?

“I think it’s an overreaction. Surely, they could’ve found their grandkids without making it such a big deal.”

The customer makes a face as Klaus hands the drink over. “I think it’s nice. It’s a good distraction from the everyday news.”

_So you’d rather hear about a man killing his wife with a feel good story wrapped around it than in the news, where the facts will be given straight?_

“Sure,” he says, trying to keep smiling. He can’t get fired, or he won’t be the only one starving. It's a constant, daily struggle to keep smiling.

The customer leaves, revealing the stalker behind him. The stalker! This is just his luck.

Klaus’ face is frozen in the smile. Like a robot, he manages to say his line. “Can I take your order?”

The man -- dark blonde, brown eyes, a resting bitch face, European features -- gives a small smile back. Klaus sees nothing in it but bad intentions. (Maybe that's the paranoia speaking. Or maybe this man is in love with him and is about to hurt him when the answer Klaus gives is no.) “Plain black coffee, please, for Cary. C-A-R-Y.”

Klaus doesn’t like this. The only people who drink plain black coffee are sociopaths. Both of his parents drank it like it was water, so he should know.

Still, he moves to the machine and twists himself so he’s not facing his back to Cary completely. He makes the drink quickly, then pushes the $20 tip (which does nothing but set alarm bells ringing in his head) into the jar.

There’s no one behind Cary, so he leaves the counter, letting the other workers take over. He has to be across town in half an hour, but he wants to take a moment.

The stalker -- Cary -- has never been so bold before. He usually just sits in the corner for Klaus’ entire shift and follows him to the bar. Klaus has even seen him following him home once.

Something has to be done about this. He can’t let this go on. (He used to let everything go on for much longer than he should have. Well, no more. He hasn’t let things run their course the long way since he lived in Baton Rouge, and he won’t start now.) (He couldn't let the best thing to ever happen to him go on, either. But that's neither here nor there.)

He should probably tell Davina, first, though. God knows what she’ll do if he doesn’t tell her beforehand.


	4. Starting Right Now I'll Be Strong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Freya and Elijah take the plunge. Klaus and Kol ignore it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So in this one, some more time passes. You'll notice that Kol's part is very similar to the original version, but it won't always be like that.
> 
> Chapter title from Fight Song by Rachel Platten.
> 
> WARNINGS: Anxiety, mentions of their past child abuse, some more about Cary.

**March 30th, 2013**

**1.5**

Once breakfast is over, Freya goes to Lucien's office.

She does this often, enjoying a quiet space that she can calm down in. The couch in particular is her favorite spot (though Lucien privately jokes her favorite spot is actually his lap).

When he'd said that, Lucy, who'd overheard, had asked why. Lucien had replied it was easier to hug that way, and didn't she love hugs from Papa?

" _Oui_ , papa," she'd said, just before tackling him to the couch for a hug.

Thinking of her precious daughter eases some of the worries Freya has about what she's about to do.

It should just be a Skype call. She will be fine. It's just talking to her grandparents. She talks to strangers all the time, so this should be easy peasy.

As she sits down and boots up Skype, she realizes there's nothing about this situation that is easy. It's rare that anything in her life is.

The Skype noises that indicate a video call makes her jump. The call is from _TorunnLeifsonn_ , who she's been informed is her aunt. Apparently, she didn't want her elderly parents to go alone and is helping with all the techy stuff.

Freya doesn't really care about all that - what she cares about is that she has an aunt. She distinctly remembers her parents both saying they had no family, except her mother's sister Dahlia. She shudders at the mention of that...well, just that. To force herself away from those particular memories, she presses accept call.

The couple's faces fill the laptop screen within seconds. Freya's heart jumps to her throat; she has to do breathing exercises to calm herself down. She doesn't think she's ready for this conversation. She isn't ready to be disappointed, or disappoint them.

"Freya? Is that you?" Aerona asks, coming even closer to the camera. She turns, "Torunn, is the screen frozen? Why is it so dark?"

Another person, a blonde woman who doesn't look that much older than Freya herself, clicks around on the screen. "Mamma, it's not frozen. And it's so dark because the brightness is down…. There! I think we're good now," she says to Freya, a friendly smile on her face. Freya knows that she and Torunn are similarly aged, but looking at the woman now, she feels like they could be twins. It's a little unsettling. "Hello."

"Hi," Freya says, thankfully managing to say it normally. "You're Torunn, right?"

She nods, "yes, I am. It's so nice to meet you, even if it is over the computer like this."

Well, it's not like Freya can just uproot her life to go to New York City. She's thinking of a way she can say that nicely, explain that's why they have to meet like this, when Leif speaks up.

"It doesn't matter how we meet, only that we do." He smiles at her kindly, saying, "we are overjoyed to meet you, dear."

Freya manages a weak smile back. She isn't ready for this, she isn't ready for the affectionate tone. But she's done it, she's called, and now she can't stop what's going to happen. She has to deal with this like an adult.

"Me too."

* * *

**3.2**

As soon as Matthew is down for his nap, Elijah goes down to the living room, where he won't interrupt anyone's sleep. Both Katerina and his son need to take naps, and neither appreciate it when he wakes them up from one. It's better that he's downstairs.

As soon as he's settled on the couch, he's searching his last name again. He has no idea what to expect, but for some reason he's nervous of what he'll find. His mind flits between possible arrest records, Facebook profiles, obituaries. The last one is terrifying. He'd be fine if he found the first two, but the last one would surely send him spiralling.

Thankfully, the first hit is the website from before. He clicks on it apprehensively.

The first thing he sees is a picture of himself. There are no pictures of himself before eighteen years old in his possession. When this picture was taken, he was newly eleven years old. It feels like a lifetime ago; feels like a lifetime since he sat down with his older siblings next to him, his younger siblings around him, flinching at the flash of the camera.

It feels so nice to be able to say, 'that's what I looked like'. Katerina has always wondered - now she won't have to anymore.

Elijah reads the little excerpts with an attention to detail he usually reserves for class (or his old cases). Freya is still missing, as are all of his younger siblings. Finn is in regular contact with them and planning to visit as soon as he can; he lives in St. Louis with his wife and children. Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik were adopted.

Elijah's heart constricts when he reads that Niklaus ran away. ' _Niklaus, after being in a foster home in Baton Rouge, Louisiana for only three weeks, ran away. There has been no concerted effort to find him. He has been missing since March 17th, 2005. He was not reported missing until March 21st, 2005. He was seventeen when he went missing; he would now be twenty-five years old. Please, if you have any information on where he could be, send in tips._ ' Elijah hasn't spoken to his younger brother since the nurses let them visit each other in the hospital; in the past 16 years, the idea of his siblings has become faded, something he knows is true but can't prove. So yes, his heart constricts. But it doesn't feel real. Niklaus doesn't feel real anymore, and neither does his missing status.

He moves on, not wanting to think about what could have befallen Niklaus.

Every time he reads the word 'missing', he feels worse and worse. A feeling of hopelessness washes over him as he reads each little excerpt.

It's that bleeding heart of his that told him to become a social worker, making him feel this way. That is now telling him that surely his siblings have seen this, if they're even alive, and are surely feeling the same way he is.

(He knows that isn't true. Of them all, he's the most family-oriented, one of the most sensitive to these sorts of things. But thinking that his siblings are hoping he's found gives him courage.)

It's his bleeding heart deciding for him when he exits out of the site, pulls the phone app, and calls the number.

* * *

**March 31st, 2013**

**4.2**

Going to Wal-Mart is not something Klaus enjoys. His Wal-Mart is full of "witches" who do "voodoo" and proclaim him to a have "a long life line" and "great sorrow". (Davina doesn't count.)

Still, he has to get food for the pets and for the humans he's taking care of. It's not like he can just skip out on groceries. He has his non-plastic bags with him, the ones Marcel insisted on, even though they make him look like an idiot.

He holds the bags close as he walks the streets, not interested in talking to any of the people around him. Especially not Cary, who he thinks has taken the early morning to sleep instead of following him.

Soon after he steps into the store, he catches sight of Davina.

She sees him and gives a wolf-whistle.

"Maybe in ten years," he calls, relaxing into the easy routine they have.

She rolls her eyes. "I'm nineteen, loser."

"In dog years?"

"Ha ha," she replies dryly. They're both grinning, though, so the sass is lost. She walks closer, taking a few of the bags from him. The store is practically deserted, so it's okay if she walks with him. "So what are you doing here? Is Marcel already at school?"

Klaus shrugs, grabbing a cart. "You know he gets up early." She also knows why he gets up early, but that's a can of worms he's uninterested in opening. "Anyway, I have some news."

"Stalker news or family news?" She questions, following him to the frozen foods aisle. She looks excited, which is no surprise to him. She's been pestering him about the Mikaelson Manhunt since she first made the connection of Niklaus being Klaus.

"Stalker news," he says, grabbing a few pizzas. "He came up to the counter last night just before my shift ended, and he actually spoke to me."

Davina gasps. "Seriously? The freak can talk?" Cary has been stalking him for so long without a word spoken that it is kind of shocking.

"Yeah. He said his name is Cary."

"Cary?" She asks with distaste. Though he suspects that anything about him causes distaste in her. "He didn't do anything creepy did he?"

"Not any creepier than usual."

"Hmm," she says as they move into the next frozen aisle. She grabs a milk and turns pleading eyes to Klaus. "Can we get the chocolate milk? Please?"

Klaus sighs, unsure of how this is his life. Telling a nineteen year old girl there's not enough room in the fridge for chocolate milk. God, if Caroline knew what he's become…. "There's no room in the fridge."

"We can make room! I'll even pay for it." Davina clasps her hands under her chin. "Pleeeeease."

"Fine. But Marcel will want something, too. Go find him some cake mix."

"And what are you going to be doing?" She teases. "Getting condoms?"

"Davina!"

Her cackle as she leaves rings in his head as he continues his shopping. He shakes his head in an effort to get the sound of her laugh out of his head.

Now if only he can get Cary and his siblings out of mind, too.

* * *

**April 2nd, 2013**

**5.1 - Los Angeles, California**

Kol steps off the plane and wants to melt. Dammit, why is L.A. so hot?

 _It's the price you pay for seeing them_ , he reminds himself. And it's a good enough reason, he supposes. If it wasn't, he wouldn't be here.

He starts walking to baggage claims, and tries to ignore the looks people are giving him for his coat and jeans. It was cold when he got on the plane, alright, people? He isn't crazy. New York weather is just the complete opposite of Los Angeles'.

He picks up his bag, buys a piece of candy to tide over his sugar addiction, and sets off towards the front doors. His parents should be there, waiting for him. His thoughts stray to the paps; god, he hopes they aren't there. Or if they are, there aren't many. He's already gotten in trouble for shielding himself from them with a few thrown fists; if his parents are having any trouble at all, he'll -

His publicist calls as he's ranting to himself. He attempts to balance his bag and his candy in one hand - it's difficult, but he's got it. Kol can handle anything.

"Hello, dearest. How are we today?" He jokes.

Taylor is silent.

"Fine, be that way." Again, there's no reaction. He sighs, giving into Taylor's no-nonsense demeanor. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to tweet something about the Mikaelson Manhunt." Kol stops dead, and coughs harshly at hearing his true last name. He ignores the glares of the people who bump into him, and steps off to the side. Taylor takes it as him disagreeing. "Listen, Cole, it will make you look good. Lots of celebs are doing it. Helping some little old man find his grandkids makes you seem compassionate and - "

"What in the hell are you talking about, love?" He rasps out. He drops his bag to the ground, and stuffs his candy in his pocket. It's his weird way of making sure he's giving his full attention - he can't do that if he has things in his hands. He's always been like that.

"The Mikaelson Manhunt? Aerona and Leif Trulsson, little old couple from Norway, looking for their estranged grandchildren…? How do you not know any of this?"

"I've been on a plane - "

"This has been a thing for at least a week and a half, Cole. Don't give me that 'I've been on a plane' BS."

Kol sighs heavily, and rubs a hand over his face. "Why is it called 'The Mikaelson Manhunt', exactly?"

"Because that's the last name of the grandchildren. Their names are Freya, Finn, Elijah, Niklaus, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik Mikaelson. They're - "

"Dammit, Taylor. Do they have a website, or something? I'll do it, I just don't have time right this second." More like, _I don't want to deal with the repercussions of this right now_.

"Yeah, I'll send the details to you. Sound good?"

Kol lies, "sounds good."

* * *

**5.2**

James and Kathy Henderson had taken Kol in when he was a scared little 5 year old. They'd renamed him Cole Nathan Henderson (not much of a stretch from Kol Nathaniel Mikaelson), and they'd fed, clothed, and comforted him.

They were his parents, even though he didn't call them Mom and Dad. After what had happened, he'd vowed three things - he didn't have a Mom, he didn't have a Dad, and he would never have children.

James and Kathy were cool with it, thank god. They'd been so kind to him since they met him that he'd tried his best to be as good-behaviored and easy to take care of as possible. (He hadn't done that with Mikael; no, he would break shit around the house and scream as loud as he could about the littlest things just to piss him off. If Mikael was going to ignore his existence, Kol was going to make it hell on earth for him. Those memories aren't good ones but they bring a joy Kol wishes he didn't know.)

So when Kol sees that there isn't any paps around their car, he is eternally thankful. He doesn't have the brainpower to deal with them right now. What Taylor was talking about is weighing too heavily on him for him to be able to keep the paps away.

He throws his stuff in the trunk, and slides into the backseat. Hailie is already there, smiling widely at him. He hugs her, happy to see his adoptive sister, but he doesn't put his best effort into it.

"Hey bro. You okay?" She frowns at him, and her freckles show adorably.

He ruffles her natural hair. "Just jetlagged, you know how it is."

She nods, accepting his fib. James and Kathy don't, though. They never have and probably never will.

"So, Cole," Kathy says, turning around partially as James drives off to their house. "How's the movie going?"

"Oh, it's great. You already know it's a horror movie, and my character is fuc-freaking crazy. It's awesome."

Kathy gives him a look at his almost slip, but doesn't comment on it. "I saw online that you pranked your co-star?"

"Ah, yeah. But he deserved it."

Hailie questions, "he deserved your prank almost dropping an entire set?"

Kol can't help but giggle under his breath. By far the best prank he's ever done, even if it almost got him fired. "Man, I got so much shit for that."

"Cole." James reprimands.

"Sorry, sorry, I got so much shite for that."

He cackles at the unimpressed looks James and Kathy give him. Hailie smiles, clearly amused.

After a moment's pause, Kathy asks bluntly, "then what's the problem?"

Kol's face drops. "What? There's no problem."

"Yes, there is. You came out of the terminal looking like you were about to keel over. So what's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong," he tries. At their looks, Kol blurts out, "do you know anything about the Mikaelson Manhunt?"

James shakes his head, "I've heard of it. What about it?"

He says, "well, Taylor wants me to tweet about it, to help my image. I don't know anything about it and I'm just...I don't know if I should or not." He bites his lip. "I was hoping you could shed some light on it, but since you don't know anything…."

Kathy shrugs, "sorry kid."

"It's cool," he waves it off. It's not cool, but it's not the end of the world. He'll just look it up when he gets home.

Hailie, on the other hand, says, "well, Leif Trulsson got a call about a month ago, it was some guy saying his son, Mikael, had died in prison. The son's wife was dead, that's why he was in prison in the first place, so their kids were put in the system, but they'd all aged out or been adopted. He and his wife are looking for them, so they can reunite them. Three have already been found - Freya, Finn, and Elijah. The eldest three."

Kol blinks at her, shocked. Hearing about his family, his _father_ ….

The thought of his siblings, more than his parents, does something to him - instantly, his heart starts pounding. He loses his breath, and his awareness of the people in the car with him lessens to almost zero.

Kol pushes himself forward, so his head rests on the back of the passenger seat. It doesn't help like he wants it to, but he can't think of anything that will help even though he's had these problems for years, so he doesn't move again after that.

Hailie immediately starts rubbing his back - his anxiety is old news by now, and she knows well how to deal with this.

He barely notices as tears start to fall, and his chest gets tighter. His gasping is beyond him.

He's thinking only about his siblings, about being ripped away from them like they all meant nothing, like it was perfectly okay to separate them.

God, Nik's screaming and Bekah's sobs were the worst sounds he'd ever heard, even more than the inhuman screech Mother let out when Father -

"Cole, look, there's a red car. Oh, and there's another one. That's two. Can you help me count, baby? There's a third, and a fourth…."

Kathy's voice cuts off his bad thoughts. He drags his head up, and looks out the window. There's a red rust bucket next to them, so he chokes out, "five."

Kathy nods encouragingly. He says, "six," when he sees a red SUV, and "seven," when a fire truck passes by them.

Hailie keeps rubbing his back the whole ride home.

God, he hates this part of himself.


	5. I'm Only One Call Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elijah calls and talks to Freya and Finn. Kol shows off his acting talents. Rebekah finds out about the Manhunt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this didn't come out yesterday! Chapter title from One Call Away by Charlie Puth.
> 
> I kinda experimented in this chapter, in the parts 8.3 and 8.4. I really hope you guys like it and please let me know if you want more stuff like in those parts! Also, rest assured that I will be doing social media stuff again, since that was such a big hit last time.
> 
> WARNINGS: slight anxiety, talk of the Holocaust and the losses connected to that (8.3), death of a friend and some references to sex (8.4), pregnancy and accompanying hormones, and after all that, fluff! Seriously so fluffy you make puke.

**8.2 -- March 30th, Stanford, California, USA**

_ Elijah bit his lip as the phone rang. He was sure of his choice to call, but he was still nervous. His fingers fiddled with the throw pillow, wondering what was about to happen. _

_ The phone call clicked on, and he said, “...I’m calling for the Mikaelson Manhunt.” _

_ Feeling like Niklaus and his uncertainty, Elijah cringed, hoping that was the right thing to say. _

_ A male voice said jovially, “oh! Do you have a tip?” _

_ Elijah cleared his throat. “Actually, I’m calling because I am Elijah Mikaelson.” _

_ There was a gasp, a delighted one, and the man said, “oh my goodness, really?” _

_ Elijah lets out a little chuckle, fingers letting the pillow go to run through his hair. “Yes, really. I’m sure you want proof, though. Just to be sure.” _

_ The man, who he assumed was Leif Trulsson, clicked his tongue. “Just send a picture of yourself to this number and write your birthday and my name on the paper. My name is Leif Trulsson,” he said. _

_ Elijah couldn’t help but think that it was a weird way to get proof. There was lots of room for error and surely they saw that? He shook his head at himself, though, willing to do it if it would actually get him connected to family. _

_ “Okay,” he replied, “I’ll do that in just a second. Is there anything else I need to -- “ _

_ “No, no, that’s fine for now. I’ll call you back after you send your proof, and then we’ll go from there.” _

_ The whole situation was a little odd, but Elijah dismissed it. “Okay, I’ll go do that now.” _

_ He hung up and repurposed a sheet of homework for his proof.  _ Leif Trulsson _ , he wrote,  _ my birthday is March 14th, 1985 _. _

_ He sent it, getting a  _ thank you _ text back. He waited for several minutes, which he spent rearranging the coffee table and checking on Matthew. _

_ When his phone rang, he scrambled to get it, answering it as quickly as he could. “Hello?” _

_ Leif said, “I don’t know if you know this, but you are the spitting image of myself when I was your age, except I had blonde hair.” _

_ Elijah let out a shocked little laugh at the man’s -- his grandfather -- tone. “So does that mean that I passed the test?”  _

_ Leif laughed, too. “Yes, yes you did. Now, do you want to talk to your siblings? They’re eager to talk to you.” _

_ Elijah’s eyes grew hot within a second, but when he said, “yes, of course,” his voice was strong and the tears stayed where they were. _

* * *

**8.3 -- _Going Home (2010)_**

Ezra’s tears made his face shine. His cousin, Wolfgang, looked on uncomfortably, unsure of how to comfort this man whom he had just met.

“Did you...do you remember them?” Wolfgang finally asked, eyes dropping the second Ezra’s came up. He couldn’t make himself look into the haunted eyes of his cousin, knowing what horrors befell the man. Wolfgang was a coward, he knew, but he didn’t care. He wouldn’t look into those eyes, especially not now. Especially not when the memories were all at the surface again.

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t. I’ve forgotten them,” he said, voice crackling sadly. “How can someone forget their own parents? How, Wolfgang?”

“You were only a boy,” his cousin tried, reaching out a hand. “I’m sure wherever they are -- “

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he barked, shrugging out from under the other man’s hand. “Don’t tell me they’re looking over me, or they’re in a better place. I don’t want to hear it.”

Wolfgang sighed, dragging a hand over his face. “Ezra -- “

“Just, just shut up. Please. I don’t want to talk anymore.”

“Fine,” Wolfgang relented, taking a seat next to his cousin. Ezra was a foreign thing to him, as bad as that sounded. American, Jewish, an emotional wreck. The boy he’d known as a child was long gone, replaced by this person who had let the war creep into every part of himself.

Sitting in front of the graves, the empty ones, Wolfgang could see exactly how he had changed. The last time they’d done this, it was their grandfather’s grave. Ezra had said something like how he was sure Grandfather would be glad that he didn’t have to see his little Jew grandson cry.

Now, sitting in front of the graves of Wolfgang’s aunt and uncle -- Ezra’s parents -- Ezra wasn’t joking, at his own expense or otherwise.

One thing hadn’t changed, though -- Ezra was a talker.

“They would hate what I’ve become,” he whispered. “They would be so disappointed.”

Wolfgang kept silent, not daring to speak.

“They wanted me to become a good German doctor, or lawyer, or something, something respectable. And now I’m just an American nut case who has no real job and does everything he can to pretend they didn’t exist.” He sniffled, wiping his eyes as he gazed at the headstones. “It’s easy, you know. It’s so easy to pretend that I was born in America, that I got this tattoo as a homage to relatives I’m not directly descended from. It’s so easy to pretend that Jimmy and Mary are my real parents.

“I hate that,” he confessed, sobs leaving him uncontrollably. “I hate  _ this _ .”

Wolfgang sighed, and rubbed his back. “I know,” he murmured, unsure what else he could possibly do.

 

**[...]**

 

_ “Oh my god, Cole, I just got shivers,” the host, Ellen, said. _

_ Kol smiled, “thanks!” _

_ “Of course,” she replied easily. “Your acting was so convincing there! And for you only being nineteen, that’s amazing.” _

_ Her praise brought a blush to Kol’s cheeks that he couldn’t stop. He licked his lips a little self-consciously. “I really appreciate that,” he said, insecurities telling him he needed to stop being a broken record. _

_ Ellen shifted in her seat, “so, can I ask where you got your inspiration from for Ezra? I’m sure other actors are watching this wondering how you acted that scene out so well.” _

_ Kol shrugged. “I mean, I didn’t have family in the Holocaust as far as I know, but I have experience with losing parents young.” _

_ The crowd and Ellen made sad noises. “What happened?” She asked gently. _

_ “They were murdered,” he said, wishing it were completely true. _

_ Ellen asked a few more questions, about his parents and the movie. When time was up, she said, “don’t forget to see Going Home starring Cole Henderson this Friday!” _

* * *

**8.4 -- _The Effect Of Apathy (2012)_**

Jude was just pulling up his pants when the guy he’d spent the night with called, “you got a text from ‘David eggplant emoji’.”

“Will you read it outloud?” He asked while he searched for his shirt.

The guy shrugged, reading, “‘Jude, I know this isn’t something you should be told over text, but last night, Andrew got into a car wreck and this morning he died.’ Holy shit,” the guy said. Jude looked at him, stunned and horrified. He stumbled over, grabbing for his phone.

“What the fuck?” He said, “what the actual -- “

“Dude,” the guy said, delicious accent wrapping around Jude’s emotions. His hands came down on Jude’s bare shoulders warmly. “I think you should text David and find out where Andrew is, and go there. Like, I know we just met last night and all, so you don’t have to listen to me, but that’s what I would do.”

Jude pulled away, the feeling on the guy’s thumbs drawing circles into his flesh making him uncomfortable. He shrugged, shocked, “I’ll think about it,” he said. “I have to leave, though. I have to leave.” His throat closed up, thinking about his best friend, the guy he’d called brother for years. “Bye,” he said almost incoherently, before bolting, leaving the one-night-stand naked and confused.

 

**[...]**

 

_ “You know, when we did that scene, you looked so distraught, I could’ve sworn that someone had really died,” Enzo said into Kol’s chest. _

_ Kol closed his eyes, the feeling of Enzo’s hand on his abs under his shirt too good to keep them open. “That was one of my best movies, everyone says so.” _

_ Enzo laughed at his haughty tone. “Well, I certainly agree with them.” _

_ Kol pushed at his shoulders, laughing as well now. “You’re only saying that because you were my first sex scene.” _

_ “And what a marvelous time it was,” Enzo countered. “I can honestly say that I’ve never loved showing my sex moves to a crew of people more than I did with you.” _

_ Kol grinned. “I bet you’d have even more fun if you showed me your moves without the crew,” he suggested, trying not to lay on the seduction too thick. _

_ Enzo made a noise that Kol was very interested in. “What a great idea, gorgeous,” he murmured, dipping down. “If anyone asks, we’re practicing.” _

_ Kol was going to say something snarky back, but then Enzo did something with his mouth that made him extremely less interested in being sassy. _

* * *

**April 3rd, 2013**

**6.1 -- Denver, Colorado**

Rebekah loves Frederick, she truly does. But if he makes one more damn comment about how angry she’s getting at the glitter explosion in the classroom, she's going to scream.

"This is not funny!" She starts at a normal volume, but ends with a screech.

Fred doubles over, hands on his knees, crying with laughter.

She flicks glitter at him. He straightens and gives her a betrayed look.

"Bekah? How could you?" He sounds affronted.

She raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow. "You threw it at me first! You know me, I always defend myself." She puffed her chest out proudly.

He nods, and rubs at the glitter like it'll actually ever leave his clothes instead of staying until the end of time. Sigh.  _ This is why he needs me _ , Rebekah thinks. He says, rubbing at his eyes, "I know that sweetie, but...did you have to aim for my face?"

She stares at his him in sudden horror, seeing how his eyes are watering. "Oh my god…." She puts a hand over her mouth, suddenly in tears. Her breath hitches with a sob as she wails, "I hurt you!"

Fred's smiles slides off his face. He rushes forward, and wraps his arms around her. She sobs into his neck, thoughts going through all of the bad things that glitter in the eye could result in.

"It's okay, Bekah, I'm fine. I was just teasing you, I promise. There’s nothing in my eyes. We're okay, I'm okay, you can stop crying now…."

"Augh, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." She pulls away and wipes her tears off. "Damn hormones," she whispers. She knows her students will be back in class soon, as well as the teacher of the room. Neither she nor Mrs. Williams will want to explain why she's crying.

He shushes her. "I told you, it's fine. I can handle a mood swing or two, I promise."

She smiles at him, overjoyed that this is the man she's going to spend the rest of her life with. She really made a great choice.

Mr. H, Fred's main teacher, pops his head into the room. "C'mon, Freddy, class is about to start. You and Bekah need to get back into teacher mode."

Fred nods. With a grin, he responds, "gotcha Tom. I'll be right there." Mr. H gives them a smile and moves towards his classroom. His palm rests on her cheek for a moment, and she leans into it. They share a quick peck of a kiss, which definitely calms her down. Then he slips off to his classroom.

She's still standing there, eyes closed, when the first of the kids come in with Mrs. Williams. Two of them are talking about something adamantly. Curious, she moves closer to them, to hear what they're saying.

Amelia says, "they found 'Lijah! Can you believe it?"

Robert shakes his head. "Mmm-mm. Plus, they're going in order."

"What?" Amelia's eyes get wide.

"Yeah! First Finn, then Freya, then Elijah. See? They're in order, which means Niklaus is next."

"You're stupid," Amelia accuses. "They were born like this: Freya, Finn, 'Lijah, Niklaus, Kol, Rebekah, and Henrik. That's not in order."

Robert opens his mouth, ready to call Amelia stupid. Rebekah cuts in quickly, not wanting a shouting match to happen before class starts up again. "What are you kids talking about," she asks, crouching down a little. Her stomach gets in the way of her getting down to their level completely.

Robert brightens up, apparently excited to talk about this subject. "The Mikaelson Manhunt!"

Rebekah coughs on her own spit. "Mikaelson?"

Amelia nods. Robert asks, "have you heard, Mrs. Bell? These old viking people are looking for their grandkids! And they just found another one a few days ago!"

She'd heard the names, but written them off. Hearing them now, connected to the last name Mikaelson, well, she's sure it's no coincidence.

"Wow! That sounds very interesting," she says. She won't bother to find out anything now - she'll do that when she gets home. She has to make sure, after all. Her memories of her time before are spotty at best; there could be no correlation, though she seriously doubts it.

Robert and Amelia talk to her for a few more minutes before Mrs. Williams starts up class.

Rebekah doesn't have any time to think of the possibilities, not with kids always needing her or wanting her attention. It still plagues her thoughts in what few free moments she has.

* * *

**2.2**

Finn locks himself into the office downstairs, excitement bubbling up in his chest.

Since he called the Leifsons, he’s talked to them several times. He’s even talked to Freya a few times, his heart beating at 100 MPH each time.

But today, he’s going to talk to Freya and Elijah. At the same time.

Needless to say, he’s so excited, he could puke.

He finds that his hands are shaking as he turns on Skype and waits for the call.

Sage had told him, earlier when they were sending the kids out the door, that he needed to make sure he was cool, calm, and collected. Easy for her to say, he’d teased.

She rolled her eyes at him, told him he would regret it if his excitement took away from the moment.

He’s starting to get that now. Even though he can acknowledge it, though, doesn’t mean that he’s not practically beaming when Freya video calls him.

He accepts it, of course, delighted to see his sister again. When they’d first talked, he’s been shocked at what she looked like now. This time, he smiles at her and notes the dark circles under her eyes are lighter than last time.

She’s excited, too, he can tell. “Hi,” she waves, “Elijah should be on soon. Aerona gave me his username.” She looks down at something on her desk that he can’t see, then turns her attention back to him.

He shrugs, leaning back in his seat and feigning nonchalance. “Maybe he’s running late?”

“Maybe,” she says, mimicking his posture. “In the meantime, how have you been?”

Finn usually hates recounting his days, but he wants Freya to know about him, his life. He’s found that telling her about his kids and his job is more fun than he’d thought possible.

He tells her about how Lacey begged and pleaded to shave her legs, which Freya finds hilarious.

“No seven year old needs to shave,” he says, repeating what he’d said to his daughter. “I can’t believe she thought she’s old enough.”

Freya giggles, getting ready to say something; he attention is caught by her screen. His breath catches in his throat as she says, “okay, I’m adding him.”

Both Finn and Freya wait nervously for the call to connect, and when it does and Elijah’s face fills half the screen, they’re both smiling so wide it hurts.

Elijah’s eyes flick between their faces, while Finn can’t focus on anything but his brother.

“Hi,” Elijah says after a long moment, sounding uncharacteristically shy. In Finn’s mind, Elijah is a presence no one ignores, if only because he won’t let them. Sure, he liked to hide, to be in the background so he could eavesdrop. But Elijah made himself known, no matter where he was, and seeing him shy is odd.

Freya laughs, a little wetly. “Hi, Elijah.”

“Oh my god,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair, “I never thought I’d get to talk to you two again. It’s so nice to see you both.”

Finn, who is admittedly feeling choked up, says, “it’s so nice to see you, too. This is one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.”

“Same,” Freya adds, making them both laugh.

Elijah says, with complete sincerity, “Freya, you’re beautiful.”

Freya blushes, clearly still insecure. “Thanks. You don’t look too shabby yourself.”

Elijah laughs. “Please, this is far from my best look.”

“I kinda like the beard,” Finn says, even though he doesn’t. No harm in boosting up a siblings’ confidence, right?

Elijah seems to see right through him, but says “thanks”, anyway.

They talk for a little while longer, about inconsequential things.

Then Elijah looks off to the side and calls, “Katerina, come here.”

“Are we about to meet your wife?” Freya asks anxiously. She’s put off meeting Sage because it makes her too nervous. Sage, his beautiful angel of a wife, is understanding and hasn’t tried to meet Freya yet.

Elijah sees that -- “If you don’t want to, then we can wait,” he says kindly, clearly keeping Katerina from coming into view.

Finn can read Freya like a book, even all these years later. She doesn’t want to say wait to him, but she also doesn’t want to meet anyone right now. It’s either be polite or put herself through an anxiety attack.

Eventually, she quietly says, “please?”

Elijah nods, looking away. “Maybe tomorrow, love.” He looks back at them. “Would you like to meet my son? He’s only two.”

Freya shrugs. “Okay. And please tell your wife that it’s not her, it’s me. I haven’t met Finn’s wife either.”

Elijah relays the information, looking upon the woman lovingly. Finn definitely wants to meet the girl that Elijah’s this smitten with.

Then there’s a little boy in Elijah’s lap, and Finn focuses on the fact that he’s got another nephew.

“This is Matthew,” Elijah says proudly, waving at them until the little boy follows suit. “Can you say hi, Matthew? Hi?”

Matthew looks at them both curiously, then screeches, “hi!”

Elijah lets out a shocked laugh that Finn hasn’t heard enough of. “Oh my god, Matthew! You said hi!”

“Was that the first time he said it?” Both Finn and Freya ask at the same time.

“He’s so precious,” Freya adds, cooing at the baby.

Matthew giggles, saying “hi!” repeatedly.

Elijah looks so happy, he could burst. He tickles Matthew, who shrieks with laughter, leaving Freya and Finn to watch. Finn isn’t sure about Freya, but he himself is bursting with affection for his brother who he hasn’t seen in so long, and his nephew, who he can’t wait to meet. He shares a smile with Freya, who looks relaxed and happy watching the adorable display.  
  
Finn thinks,  _ this is  _ definitely  _ one of the best things to ever happen to me _ .


	6. Mama Help Me, I've Been Cursed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait everyone, I had finals, then I got caught up in writing a birthday fic, then I started reading fics from other fandoms...you get the idea. But I am back! This chapter is short because I have a lot of other stuff that I'm writing right now, but the next one won't be. Expect another (regular length) update next Saturday/Sunday.
> 
> Chapter title from Bleed It Out by Linkin Park.
> 
> WARNINGS: a lot of focus on mental illnesses, one f bomb, lots of teasing, child abuse (not explicit), self hatred, confrontation between Mikael/Esther and Ansel.

**April 4th, 2013**

**7.1 - Richmond, Virginia**

Tessie excitedly says, "look! ' _Newest reports indicate that the eldest three Mikaelson children, Freya, Finn, and Elijah, are in contact. No word yet on when they plan to meet up in person but for now, the world is fine with screenshots from Skype calls and interviews._ ' Oh my god, it's so sweet!"

Emily leans over to see the phone when Tessie turns it around.

"I can't see," Jason complains.

"Fine," Tessie says, handing him the phone.

Henry leans over his brother's shoulder to see the picture, too. He knows it's going to be about the Mikaelson Manhunt, so he isn't surprised to see Finn Mikaelson there. What is surprising is the two other pictures in the photo collage. One of Freya Mikaelson, with a beautiful smile lighting her up, and one of Elijah Mikaelson, with a serious look on his face.

"Huh," he says out loud. Seeing them together, side by side, makes it easy to see their similarities. Strong jaws in the brothers, expressive eyebrows in all three, laugh lines. The feeling of wanting to know about the other four, which everyone following the story feels, surges up inside him. Will they have expressive eyebrows? Laugh lines?

Jason elbows him in the ribs, pulling him from his thoughts. "What, you think she's hot?"

A blush flames in Henry's cheeks. "No!"

"Ohhhh," he says devilishly. "I get it. You think one of the brothers are hot."

"No," he grinds out, looking to Emily pleadingly.

She sets down her fork and reprimands, "Jason, that's enough, or I'm telling Mom. Give Tessie her phone back."

Thank god for Emily, he thinks. She's the only one who knows he isn't straight, gay, bi, or anything in between. She's also the only one who can make Jason stop.

"When are Mom and Dad getting home again?" Tessie asks, grabbing her phone and then smoothing out her hijab. She'd told them when they first got to the cafe that she'd been in a bit of a hurry and it was looser than she wanted.

"The tenth," Emily replies, helping tug it into place.

"Thanks. Now, about thinking they're hot. Have you seen Elijah? I'd love to - "

"That's enough!" Jason cuts in loudly, waving his hands frantically. "Seriously, that is all I need to know about - "

"My intense desire to fuck Elijah Mikaelson?" Tessie finishes with a cackle. Tears spring to her eyes when Jason makes a gagging noise.

Emily and Henry share a look between their younger siblings. They don't have to speak for him to know she's just as fed up with their antics.

* * *

**8.5 - October 14th, 1994**

_Henrik Devon Mikaelson came into this world squealing._

_His mother and father both cooed over him for some time once he'd been cleaned. He had no idea of the siblings he had, waiting right outside._

_Kol, sitting on the floor of the waiting room, whined, "I'm boreeeeeeed."_

_Niklaus sighed and pushed one of the hospital's generic coloring pages towards him. "Here."_

_Kol slapped it away, right into Rebekah's waiting hands. She happily drew all over the page with her crayons. "I don't want to color!"_

_Elijah sat next to him, patting his back. "What do you want to do, then? We can't do much here, Kol, you know that."_

_"Ugh!" Kol flopped back onto Elijah, whining again, "I don't know."_

_"You don't know anything," Niklaus teased._

_Kol stared at him, eyes welling up with tears. Abruptly, he wailed, flopping forward, out of Elijah's lap, and nearly hitting his head on the floor. The only thing that stopped it from happening was Finn catching his head with his feet an inch from the floor._

_"God, Niklaus!" Freya complained, picking him up and rocking him. "Shh, Kol, you're going to wake up the babies. Remember, this is the baby floor, and they need to sleep. Shh, shh."_

_She stood, pacing while rocking him. As they passed Niklaus, who looked on, ashamed, Kol winked at his big brother. His tears were for drama and nothing else._

_Oh, that little -_

* * *

**4.3**

It's one of Klaus' few days off, and he can't be happier.

Well, actually, yes he can.

He loves Davina and Marcel like they're his own, and spending time with them is always nice, but not when they insist on talking about...it.

 _It_ is on the TV, on the internet, all over everywhere.

He, Davina, and Marcel are just hanging out, trying to watch TV. That can only last so long, with _that_ commercial coming on every break. Maury goes off, and his grandparents come on, like clockwork.

"So, we've established that you're Niklaus Mikaelson," Davina says conversationally. "And that you're being stupid, not dealing with it."

"Yeah," Marcel supports. "You're being stupid." Even if it's against him, Klaus smiles at him.

As crazy as Klaus is, he can hide it. His problems are things he can keep to himself. Marcel can't, not really. He has selective mutism; he only really talks to Klaus, Davina, and a few friends at school. Any time he talks, Klaus likes to encourage him.

God, if only Caroline could see him now. Taking care of a kid with a mental illness. He denied having one for so long, she would be shocked, he's sure.

"I'm not being stupid. We don't know for sure if they're even talking about me," he says, maybe a little petulantly.

"That picture is a picture of you," Marcel points out, gesturing to the paused TV. Klaus and his siblings' faces are big on the screen, zoomed in on. "Even I can see that, and you know I don't see resemblances well."

"Yeah," Davina copies Marcel, "that is _you_ , Klaus. No doubt. And you know that, but yet, you're denying it!"

Yeah, he's denying it. But he has good reason to. Why would he want to go back to that? He'd kill to see his siblings again, but in the spotlight? In front of the whole nation, the world? Just to tease Kol again? Just to pull Rebekah's pigtails and hug Elijah again? Hell no.

He shrugs, not saying any of that aloud. "Maybe it's someone else." Maybe _he's_ someone else. That kid with shaggy hair and a poorly concealed bruise on his cheek, he's gone. He and Klaus aren't the same person. (He really hopes not, at least.)

Both Davina and Marcel look at him like he's an idiot. But they don't say anything, because they've been together for a while now, and they know him.

Marcel says, in a whisper, "okay. Maybe they'll find him."

Davina unpauses the show. Maury declares that the man on the screen is not the father; Davina groans while Marcel snickers, tense moment forgotten. Klaus won't be forgetting it anytime soon, though.

God, he really hates himself sometimes.

* * *

**8.5 - Mystic Falls, May 10th, 1996**

_Niklaus laid in bed, face down and above the blankets. He shared the room with Kol, who happened to have the best table for Rebekah and Henrik to color on. Kol was actually leaving him alone for once, too cautious to approach him after a beating._

_Instead, he was encouraging Henrik to color outside the lines, which absolutely infuriated Rebekah._

_She was being so loud, Elijah left his and Finn's room to tell her, "Rebekah, quiet down. Everyone in the whole house can hear you. Father is angry enough as it is."_

_She crossed her arms, "so what Elijah, he won't do anything to us now."_

_Elijah sighed, copying her pose, disappointed face on. "Rebekah."_

_She rolled her eyes._

_Elijah, fed up, left the room. Rebekah hummed happily, having won the argument. Niklaus groaned, and pulled the pillow over his head. He'd thought for sure that Elijah would be able to shut Rebekah up._

_Kol whispered for Henrik to draw the outside of the cloud bright green, causing Rebekah to snatch the crayon away. Henrik wailed, "gimme!" It was the only word he could say._

_Niklaus, whose head was pounding, sat up on his hands. "Rebekah, give him back the crayon. Henrik, stop crying and stop listening to Kol. And Kol...shut up! Stop making him do things you know will make Rebekah mad!"_

_Henrik gladly took the grudgingly given crayon back, while Kol and Rebekah, shamefaced, muttered, "okay, Nik."_

_"Thank you," he said, flopping back down._

_Downstairs, Freya sighed as she got up off the couch. There was somebody at the door - probably Finn's little girlfriend, Samantha. What was the easiest way to say not the time?_

_When she opened the door, she expected black hair in a high bun, cheerleading outfit too tight and too short. What she got was a Native-white mixed guy in a suit, anxiously peering down at her._

_"Freya?" He asked. Dumbfounded, she nodded. "Hi, I'm Ansel. I don't suppose you've heard of me?"_

_She shook her head. "No."_

_He bit his lip, shifting from foot to foot. "Okay...can I talk to Niklaus?"_

What did he want with Niklaus? _, she thought, alarmed. "Uhh...no, you can't. He's busy right now." Busy healing, that was._

_From behind her, Father called, "Freya, who's at the door?"_

_She didn't look at the man outside before responding, "some guy named Ansel."_

_It happened so quickly, it was hard to keep track of what actually happened. Father and then Mother on his arm came barrelling to the door. Father was shouting, Mother trying to placate him. Ansel looked spooked._

_Father pulled Ansel into the house by his shirt, shouting, "what are you doing here?"_

_Ansel replied, "you know what I'm doing here."_

_Father's face turned red with anger. "You shouldn't have come here."_

_Mother said, "Ansel, did you really think this was a good idea?"_

_Freya's head swung around, looking from person to person. She had no idea what they were talking about. They clearly knew each other, though._

_"Probably not. But I have to do what I can for Niklaus, and that means getting him out of here. Neither of you even like him, so why don't you just let me take him?"_

_Mother cried, "excuse me? Who do you think you are?"_

_In a growl usually reserved for Niklaus, Father said, "you mean your little mutt of a son?_ I _raised him, not you. You're nothing to him."_

 _Freya watched as Ansel's face crumpled slightly. He said, tone hard, "at least in my home he wouldn't feel threatened every single day. At least with me, he would know what parental love feels like. Esther, you've told me neither of you really love him. You don't want him, you don't care about him. You should_ want _me to take him._

_"With me, he'll be with people who detest his very existence," Ansel spit, jaw jumping in a very familiar way. His anger was also very familiar to Freya. She saw it all the time in Niklaus, who Father was saying was this man's son._

_Father and Mother glared at Ansel so intensely, Freya's hackles raised and she removed herself from the situation immediately. Just before she hit the stairs, she saw Father reach for the baseball bat._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: I just found out my grandpa died last night so I'm not sure when the next update will be. I'm sorry to leave you all hanging.


	7. Small Update

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From Fanfiction:
> 
> Uhhhhh so. It's been since June. I'm really really sorry that I haven't updated in so long but I have a legitimate reason. My grandpa died not even an entire day after I posted the last chapter. Like, it was hours later. I took a break for a while, and I really was going to keep updating but...I joined the Sam Wilson Birthday Bang, which lead me down a rabbit hole of MCU-related fandom things. Also I went on vacation not long after, and there wasn't much time to write. I've had the seventh chapter planned since June 7th, actually, but I don't think I can jump right in yet. I went back a re-read, and there's lots of small things that bug me about this fic. I'm not gonna rewrite again or anything, but I might go back and edit the chapters to fix those small discrepancies.
> 
> I feel bad for taking such a long break, so I'm just gonna answer everyone who's reviewed since June here:
> 
> To Alicia Olivia Mirza - Thank you so much for all the comments, they are greatly appreciated. I'll try to answer everything lol. Concerning Freya, it's a lot harder for her than some of the others, especially Henrik. I've hinted at the homophobia Mikael dished out to her, and you're right, she knew all of her siblings much better than the younger ones did. For Kol's parents, I think they're just forgetting momentarily, or something. They're older and he's been Cole Nathan Henderson for 16 years. I'll deal with that, as well as Rebekah's and Henrik's parents, someday. Kol remembers his birth name, but Rebekah was only 4 and Henrik was only 2. Rebekah will find out next chapter, and Henrik will find out when his parents get back from their vacation. Rebekah hasn't heard about the whole thing mostly because she's really busy with school/student-teaching, and when she's not doing that, she's watching Netflix or napping. I can justify this by saying that some of Alexander Hamilton's relatives hadn't heard of the play until it'd been on Broadway (or sth) for a while. And the proof...I'm gonna go back and change that, I think. I have no idea why I thought that was enough proof. I'm gonna have them send in pictures of them with their IDs, like you said.
> 
> To IrisMikaelson - Thank you! I'll try to update more but idk how regular it'll be. I have a lot of ideas in my head rn, and a lot to write.
> 
> To TwilightHybrid - Klaus is definitely going to be the most difficult to get back. Henrik, not so much, lol. I'm not sure what I have planned yet, so all I can say for certain is that Freya is not the only one who knows Klaus isn't Mikael's. As for Caroline... ;)
> 
> To Guest - Thank you!
> 
> To DawnDream9435 - Thank you!
> 
> To ahyeon - As always, thank you 3.
> 
> To Annie - Thank you! You'll get more flashback in this small update here.
> 
> To helpfulfairy92 - Thanks! There's no real plot development in this chapter unfortunately but I hope you like it anyway.
> 
> To caringniklaus - Thank you! I'll be honest, I've kept this fic in the back of my head since June. I really want to do something amazing with it, but I have to update first, lol.
> 
> This is gonna be something of an interlude. I'm still really busy with school/a MCU Big Bang/life, so this isn't a real chapter, but I love you guys so much and I want to give you something to tide you over until I can post the next chapter. And because you've all been waiting, may I please introduce...
> 
> WARNINGS: past child abuse, talk of sex but nothing explicit, nudity, basically all the bad things that generally come with talking about Mikael.

**8.7 - Mid 2007, Mystic Falls**

Caroline absentmindedly ran her fingers through Klaus' hair, not getting caught on any tangles. He sighed happily at the scritching feeling, and she shivered as his breath rolled over her bare skin. He smiled, an easy, beautiful thing, and she swore felt his lips curl.

It wasn't the first time they'd laid in bed together for hours, but usually, it was her on his chest, him running his fingers over her scalp. When she didn't have school or cheerleading practice or a game, they would just lie in bed.  _It's funny, really,_  Caroline thought,  _everyone always said sex was amazing._  If you asked her, cuddling was so much better. Especially with Klaus; he's always warm, and he's not skin and bones anymore. Plus, he loves hugs, and Caroline loves giving him them - the intimacy alone is a big part of the reason why she's in love with him.

And she  _was_  in love. Not quite 18, she hadn't had much experience outside of Klaus - just a kiss with Tyler Lockwood under the bleachers when she was 13 - but she knew what this feeling was. He made her heart race. She thought about him often - not because she was obsessed with him, but because everything she saw or did, she wanted to share with him. They already shared so much - he lived in their spare room, Mom's heart too big to let him tough it out alone, and they'd had long conversations in the two years their knew each other about all sorts of things. Plus it was easier to reveal things when they were coming down from orgasms, the dark of their rooms providing a place to hide.

It wasn't dark in her room, but he was cuddled close to her and he didn't have to look her right in the eye.

"Klaus?"

"Hmm?" He nearly purred, easy and slow and happy.

She didn't stop running her fingers through his hair as she asked, "Will you tell me about it?"

He tensed so fast it made her flinch, muscles bunching visibly. She ran her free hand over his back, drawing a silly pattern with one of her fingernails in an attempt to relax him. She hadn't wanted to cause this reaction. It took a few long moments, but eventually, he relaxed. Still, when he replied, his voice was tight. "Love...it's not a good idea. I don't want to ruin this moment."

The pain that radiated from him made her want to cry, but she pressed on. "It won't be ruined, Klaus. I promise."

He tilted his head up, and looked her in the eyes. She didn't look away, not now. He reached up, caressing her cheek with his thumb. "I don't want to look back on this moment and think of my father and not you. I want to remember how beautiful you look, not the face you made when I told you what he did to me."

Her eyes softened, and she mimicked him, cradling his cheek in her palm. "I understand. If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to." She wouldn't force him to do anything he didn't want to. He was two years older than her, and he'd been so careful not to force her into anything. She loved him, and she wanted him to go at his own pace, but she wanted to know that part of his history just as much. He'd revealed very little of his life before he came back to Mystic Falls to her; it would be the ultimate sign of trust if he told her more about it. She would never use that to force him to talk, though.

"Thank you, Caroline." He moved upwards for a kiss, which she happily gave him. It was a chaste as a kiss between two naked people could be, and it didn't last long. He settled back over her, his head laying on her breast.

It was a long time before either spoke again.

"He knew before I was born. He knew I wasn't his, and he hated me for it. He didn't start...abusing me, really, until I was five. I suppose he couldn't find it within himself to hurt a toddler. I don't know. After my fifth birthday, he...got angier, more violent. He turned my mother against me."

His voice is utterly blank. No inflection at all. He didn't look at her when he said it - when she looked at him, his eyes were closed. She wanted, desperately, to comfort him, but she wasn't sure how.

"He started beating me whenever I did something wrong. And  _everything_  was wrong, and everything was  _my_  fault. Once, someone left the cap of the toothpaste on the counter, and he stormed into my room, enraged, and beat me in front of Kol. Kol cried and cried, and he got Mother, and Freya, and Finn, but none of them could do anything. He'd been drinking, and he wanted to hurt someone. The next day, he said it just happened to be me, but he was a liar. It was always me. Always." With every sentence, he shut his eyes tighter. A tear still leaked out, though, and onto her chest. Tears had sprung to her own eyes, and with this, she couldn't help but scooch down under him, so they were face-to-face, and wrapped her arms tight around him.

"Caroline. What did I do?" He asked, a horrible hitch accompanying the plea. He was almost silent, his voice a whispered rasp. "What did I do?"

She took in a deep breath, reminded herself that she asked and that she loved him, and consoled him for hours.

Later, much later and in the dark under his blankets, he'd tell her it was the second time he'd ever cried about it, and the first time he'd cried since in eleven years. She'd just hug him and thank god he wasn't dead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you read the last version of this fic, then you'll recognize this. I revamped it, added a lot to it. I really hope you like it, and sorry again for taking so long to update. Thank you all so much for sticking around with me and with this fic 3
> 
> Find me on tumblr at mon-amour-eternel.


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